Acceptance
by ofsaltandsea
Summary: For him, acceptance was something that must sink, slow and deep, into the bone. Only then would something so extraordinary seem believable. Paul's introduction to a world of monsters and gods is thankfully slow.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: PJO is obviously not mine. Homer translation by Ian Johnston.

Note: This chapter takes place a few months after Battle of the Labyrinth. And, in case anyone was wondering: Cyclopes (singular Cyclops).

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**Acceptance**

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****Chapter One

Paul was, like most of his students, relieved that it was Friday.

He had taught high school for a little over a decade, and the years had taught him, if nothing else, that he could expect very little participation on early days. This class, especially, was full of freshmen eager to go home and start the weekend, more so since they were getting out early today.

Paul, while he would dearly love to join them, had a curriculum to follow and critical thinking skills to impart, but he thought today they all deserved a break. What was the point in giving them a head start on the weekend otherwise?

He leaned against his desk as students shuffled and settled their things as the second bell rang.

"Okay, class," he began. "I know we have half our usual time, so we're only going to finish up our discussion from yesterday. Then I'll pop in a movie."

The sea of bored faces perked up slightly at this, and he resisted the urge to smile.

"Which you'll be taking notes on. Get out your books."

And cue the groans.

Paul liked Homer. Furthermore, he liked _teaching _Homer, but it didn't always go over well in freshman English classes. Today, at least, they would be covering one of the more interesting books.

"Now can someone tell me where we left off yesterday?"

He looked around the room; some of the usual students had their hands raised, a few were thumbing through their notes, a couple were staring determinedly at their books, and – Carlos. Staring at the clock. He didn't talk much in class, but he usually kept up with the reading.

"How about you, Carlos?"

"Oh! Uh…Odysseus got the cyclops, Polyphemus, drunk. And then he and some of his men stabbed him in his eye, and they snuck out with all the sheep."

Paul nodded. "Good. Nice summary, Carlos. But let's back up a bit. Who remembers what name Odysseus gave Polyphemus?"

Julie, in the front, raised her hand.

"He told him his name was Nobody."

'And why is that important? Sarah?"

Sarah looked up from her book. "Because…the other cyclopes couldn't tell that a real person had attacked Polyphemus, and he couldn't curse Odysseus."

"Exactly. Which leads us to the reason why it took Odysseus years after the war to get home. Percy, could you read the prayer to Poseidon?"

Percy winced from his spot by the windows. He flopped his book down on his desk, and before he moved his arm, Paul just caught a glimpse of the page. It had looked like Greek for a second.

"The _whole _thing?"

"Yes."

There was a strange look on Percy's face as he eyed the page. Belatedly, Paul wondered if it was because of his dyslexia. It was why Paul didn't often call on him to read in class, but Percy hadn't had any problems reading Homer over the last couple weeks they had been covering him.

Percy sighed.

"Hear me, Poseidon, Enfolder of the Earth," he began, "dark-haired god, if I truly am your son / and if you claim to be my father…"

Paul watched him, curious. Sometimes he really didn't know what to make of Percy. The kid in his school records seemed very different from the kid Sally had introduced him to, and the one he saw everyday. For one thing, his ADHD and dyslexia, combined with his expulsion from multiple schools was the sort of thing that generally marked troubled, attention-seeking students – and yet Percy seemed to go out of his way got not to get noticed.

And then there was the strange way he'd been behaving the last couple of weeks.

Belatedly, he realized Percy and the rest of the class were staring at him.

"Right. So, Odysseus, at the very last moment, gives his name to Polyphemus. Up until now, whether you approve of what Odysseus has done since leaving Troy or not, you have you admit he's normally shown to be pretty clever and cunning."

Julie's hand went up again.

"Odysseus said he did it for glory."

"Yes, he did. But was it worth it? Everyone may know who blinded Polyphemus, but because of this Odysseus suffered Poseidon's wrath and wasn't allowed to return home for years. Now, some of you who may be sympathetic to Odysseus can say the punishment doesn't fit the crime, considering the Cyclops ate some of his men. Some of you may feel like Polyphemus was provoked – after all, curiosity led Odysseus to the island. Whatever your opinions, I want you to come back ready to discuss them Monday. For now, I promised you a movie."

The strange look that had been making an appearance on Percy's face was back. He had looked a little amused when the "Nobody" ploy had come up. He had been like that the past two weeks – at times he had grimaced or smirked at different parts while they covered Homer, and it had been a little odd. Percy usually sat as quietly as he could in class, and even generally refrained from making smartass comments like he did in other classes (Paul took this a mark for much he liked him). He had never seen Percy _engage _this much in anything they were reading.

It was almost as if he could relate on some level.

Paul shook that thought off. That was just ridiculous. Percy may have been a little strange, but that was well beyond the realm of possibility.

The bell rang, and his students rushed for the door, eager to get to their last class and for school to end. As they headed out the door, Paul got another look at Percy's book. The brown paper covering had slipped, and the edition underneath was not the one Paul had ordered for the class from the school library.

He hadn't been imagining it was in Greek.

Paul frowned and leaned back in his desk chair as he waited for his last class. He loved Sally dearly, and he had grown to care for Percy, but there was so much he didn't know about them. His thoughts, inevitably, drifted to Percy's fifteenth birthday a couple months ago. That had been a very peculiar experience, the more he thought about it: from Tyson being Percy's half-brother, to his father dropping in, and that kid appearing out of thin air.

Sally and Percy had been through a lot together, more so than he would probably ever understand, and had understandably been vague or evasive about some things. He hoped, one day, they'd feel comfortable enough to tell him.

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Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimer applies.

Note: This chapter takes place sometime in late spring, before _The_ _Last Olympian._

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Chapter Two

It was Percy who had suggested they go to Montauk.

Paul knew the sleepy little beach town was important to Sally and Percy – the two of them had rented the same cabin on the beach since Percy was an infant, and Paul had gotten the impression that Sally had been coming to this beach for even longer.

In many ways, this weekend felt like he was truly being included as a member of their small family. He and Sally had been married for a couple of months now; while things had been great, Paul felt like they were all still adjusting to each other. Paul had high hopes for this weekend: he thought it would not only be fun, but a nice chance to bond as a new family unit, especially with Percy.

The longer he knew him, the less Paul felt like he understood his stepson.

Paul's mind had often returned to that unexpected meeting with Percy's father. The longer time passed, the less it all made sense; he had tried asking Sally and Percy about him, but they had both been a little evasive. Before meeting him, Paul had never even heard him mentioned. And yet, Percy seemed to have a decent relationship with his father.

Why, then, was he never around? Paul could admit to himself that he felt somewhat threatened by the man, and maybe a little bit jealous. Paul had assumed that Percy's father, whoever he may be, was long out of the picture, and had perhaps been the type to vanish without a trace. That obviously wasn't the case. Whatever had happened between Sally and the man, they were still on good terms, if her flustered expression had been anything to go by. Paul didn't know how he felt about it, even though it really didn't matter. Sally had married him, after all.

"Hey, Paul? Why are you throwing some of them back?" Percy's voice cut across his thoughts.

"Oh, there's a size limit for the Hard Shells," he explained.

Percy looked amused.

"And you just know how long exactly they can be? No ruler?"

"Well, I've been doing this a long time," Paul smiled.

Paul had, in fact, gone crabbing since he was a boy with both his father and grandfather. A couple years ago, he had never expected to have anyone to take with him. It was nice, though he had been pleasantly surprised when Percy had agreed – crabbing wasn't exactly something most teenage boys would consider worth their time.

Percy still looked more than a little amused, and more than Paul honestly thought the situation warranted. But he wouldn't comment on it – lately, Percy had an almost permanent furrow between his brows, and most weekends he disappeared somewhere. Sally had told him not to worry about it, even though she clearly was. Things had only gotten a little worse lately, with the last visit from the boy with the aviator jacket; he had melted out of the walls and grabbed some of Sally's cookies and had a tense conversation with Percy before he disappeared again.

In the meantime, there was something he wanted to talk to Percy about.

"Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"What did Nico want last week? He's been dropping by a lot lately, and whatever he's been saying left you pretty upset."

"It's nothing."

He glanced at him, but Percy was staring determinedly across the ocean. Time for a different tactic.

"Alright. Your mom said you're a counselor at camp. It's nearby here, isn't it?"

"Pretty close." Percy frowned at this.

"Is that where you've been going lately? Is there something going on there?"

Percy shrugged, and Paul could almost see him shutting himself off.

He sighed. Paul almost didn't want to continue, but there were things he needed to say.

"I know it can be a little awkward sometimes, with me being your teacher and your step dad. But I just want you to know that I'm here, if you ever need to talk about anything."

"I…Thanks, Paul." Percy looked surprised.

"Seriously Percy. I know there is something going on." Percy almost looked like he was going to protest. "Come on, between Nico's visits and wherever you disappear to on the weekends, there must be something going on. Your mom is worried about it, but she asked me not to worry."

Percy winced.

"I can't promise not to worry, but I can promise not to pry. Whenever you're ready to tell me, I'll listen. I know you and your mom have been through a lot, and it's probably not easy to talk about, including whatever else is going on. I'll be around, for both of you."

Percy had a steady, considering look on his face.

"You really mean that."

"I really do."

He nodded, and then stared down at the surf swirling around his feet. Percy looked deep in thought, and Paul winced a little. He had been so stressed lately; when they had gone down to the beach this morning, it was as if whatever weight Percy had on his shoulders was swept out with the waves. And Paul had just reminded him.

That might not have helped his goal of bonding over this trip.

Paul had opened his mouth, hoping to salvage the good mood from earlier when he noticed something.

"Percy, aren't your toes numb? I think you've been in the surf all morning."

He looked up.

"Oh. Not really, pretty used to it."

"Okay. Well, I think we caught enough for today. How about we head back and see if your mom has made any headway on her novel?"

"Sure."

They gathered up the buckets and lines and all the other crabbing supplies. Paul had started to back to the cabin when he realized Percy was lagging behind him.

"Percy?"

That considering look from earlier was back on his face.

"Mom and I need to talk to you later. It's important."

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Thanks for reading! I hope it's not too obvious I know very little about crabbing. Anyway, please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own PJO, and there are some minor references to _The Norton Anthology of World Literature, Vol. A _introduction to Ancient Greece.

Note: So I made a continuity error last chapter: it should have been set during the winter, according to _The_ _Last Olympian_. My bad. For the purpose of this story, it's still spring.

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Chapter Three

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Paul asked.

After Paul and Percy had come back from the beach, he had heard Sally and Percy have a very quick, and very tense conversation in the kitchenette. Sally had chattered all through dinner, as she did anytime she was nervous. Coupled with the anxious looks she kept throwing Percy, he was starting to think that he didn't want to be told anything at all.

Whatever they were about to tell him would change things.

He was suddenly feeling more than a little anxious himself.

"Well, Paul, it's…about Percy's father's side of the family," Sally faltered. She didn't seem to know how to go on.

"Mom," Percy said, "I can do it."

"Oh, dear." She looked close to tears as she squeezed Percy's hand.

"This is about Poseidon," Paul stated.

He was trying very hard not to speculate what that could mean.

Percy nodded at him, expression serious. That was the look, Paul remembered, that many of his colleagues thought meant trouble. Normally he disagreed with them, but tonight he thought they might be right.

"Yeah, it's about my dad," he said, fiddling with his glass of Coke. Percy seemed to be considering his words carefully. Paul glanced at Sally: she still looked anxious, but supportive.

"Hey Paul, you know earlier in the year? When you were teaching _The Odyssey_?"

"Yes?" Paul said, a little confused. Where was this conversation going?

"I think you said, something like, the Olympian gods are representations of the forces of the universe; they follow their own will."

"I think I said something like that, yes. The Greeks believed their gods to be expressions of the disorder of the world. Their gods are particularly human in many ways, but devoid of human morality, no matter how many human characteristics they've been given."

He winced at that. "Yeah. Morality. In the myths they had a gazillion kids, right?"

"Many of them did. Except the virgin goddesses, of course. But Percy, what does this have to do with anything?" Paul honestly thought they had lost the thread of this conversation. Was Percy stalling?

"I'm getting there," he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair as Sally patted his arm. "A lot of those kids in the myths were born to mortals. They were demigods."

"Most of the heroes of myth were, like Hercules," Paul nodded.

Percy muttered something under his breath about Hercules, but Paul didn't quite catch it.

"Yeah, him. So, if the gods were around today, they would probably still be doing basically the same things they did in the myths. Like having kids."

"More than likely," Paul said, a little amused and more than confused. "They would be immortal, with no reason to change their ways."

Percy was staring at him, green eyes intense.

"Paul," he began. "What would you say if I told you that they _were_ still around today?"

"What?"

Paul was completely lost. He couldn't possibly be saying what it sounded like he was saying.

"All of those monsters Homer talked about, all of the heroes and the myths, and the Olympian gods – it's all real. They exist, and they're here, in New York."

"What…. What are you saying?"

"My dad _is _Poseidon."

He was completely serious. There was not a trace of laughter or mischief in Percy's expression, or Sally's. He looked back and forth between them for a moment, convinced it was all some sort of prank.

"Are you trying to tell me you're a demigod, Percy?"

"Yes."

"You're a son of Poseidon."

"Yeah. His only mortal son at the moment."

Paul looked at Sally, feeling helpless. What was going on here? If this wasn't a prank, that would mean they both genuinely believed that Percy was the son of the Olympian Sea God. It was one thing to say you belonged to a polytheistic religion, and another to say you were literally a part of it.

"Paul." Sally reached across the table and grasped his hand. "I know it is very hard to believe, but we're serious. There are monsters out there, and gods. Think of all the bizarre things that have happened in the news lately, or even across time. They've always been there."

"Sally…" It was a lot to take in.

"Please, Paul. We would never lie to you about something like this."

"I know."

And he did know. He trusted them, and he knew they certainly believed what they were telling him. It was just so incredibly unbelievable.

All his life, Paul had wanted to believe something as fantastic as this existed. That there was more to the world than what he had seen of it, something greater. The Greek pantheon being alive and accounted for definitely qualified.

"I think I need a minute to think," Paul said.

Percy grimaced. "It takes a while to get used to it."

…

The sand beneath him was cool as he watched the waves retreat back to the dark sea. His mind revolved in circles.

Western culture started with the Ancient Greeks. Paul had learned the myths by heart as a student and had taught them as a teacher for years. There was little in literature one could read without being able to trace some thread of the early Greek philosophers and myths. The thought that his stepson could be a part of those myths, a hero like Theseus and Bellerophon was astounding.

And yet. It made sense. The young man he had come to care for as a son had continually surprised him. He was funny, brave, and stood up for people; he loved his mother and protected his friends; that was exactly the sort of person people would define as a hero.

Paul wanted to believe it was real. The problem was _letting_ himself believe it. He did not doubt Sally's word, and never would. But he would need something more concrete to fully believe it.

There was a thump from beside him.

Startled, Paul turned to find Percy settling into the sand next to him, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"My mom was getting kind of worried. You okay?"

Paul thought about that for a second.

"Yeah. I want to believe you, Percy. I trust and care about you both too much not to; it's just difficult to believe."

"I know." Percy slumped back onto his elbows. "I didn't believe it at first, either. I thought everyone was crazy. For what it's worth, I think you're handling this pretty well."

"Thanks."

They were both silent a moment, gazing at the sea.

Then Paul seized on a sudden idea.

"As a hero, you must have had some pretty fantastic adventures," he said. "How about you tell me some of them."

"Oh." Percy sat up. "Yeah, sure. But we should probably let mom know you're not completely freaking out first," he smiled.

Paul smiled back, a little sheepish. "Good idea."

They headed back inside. His family spent the night regaling him with stories about monsters and demigods, friends and enemies alike, each one as amazing as the last.

Maybe this hadn't been the sort of secret Paul had thought they had, but it hardly mattered now. The important thing was that they had shared it with him. He might not believe it all yet, but he would try.

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I hope you liked it. Review! This story has a couple more chapters to go :)

Extra: I'm posting a long Chiron one-shot in a bit. If you're interested, check it out.


	4. Chapter 4

Standard disclaimer applies.

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Chapter Four

The hoof marks in the hood of his car really made him pause.

Since the weekend at Montauk, Sally and Percy had not spoken of the whole demigod business much; they had told him a little more about Percy's camp and explained the Tyson situation, but other than that, they hadn't really brought it up. Paul knew this was for his own sake.

He really did want to believe them, but a lifetime of dismissing such stories as, well, _stories, _was a difficult habit to break.

That didn't mean Sally and Percy weren't determined to help him, however. There had been a number of incidents over the past few months that would seem to indicate that they were making a concerted effort to ease him into the idea.

For example, Paul had stumbled over a pile of what he took to be practice gear in the hallway, though Sally had said something about Percy leaving his armor laying around at the time.

One evening Paul had walked into the kitchen to see the faucet running and the dishes half done, while Percy was sitting at the table.

"I know water is included in the rent, but conserving water is good for everyone," Paul had joked. "I also don't think those dishes are going to wash themselves."

"What? Oh." Percy had glanced behind at the sink, where the faucet was pouring out a steady drizzle over the stack of dirty dishes. "I'm doing them."

"From the table?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "Kinda looks like it."

"Oh! Percy." Sally had come in behind him. "I know that's a lot more convenient, but maybe hold off on it for now," she glanced at him.

After that, Paul couldn't remember anything really strange happening until Rachel had come back up the road without Percy, and had relayed Percy's apology about the hood.

Paul had got up from the bench where he and Sally had been enjoying the view to run his hands over the indentations a Pegasus had left behind.

"Those are real hoof marks," he muttered. "This is _real_."

Paul stared at the hood, dazed. No logical explanation could really cover this. Maybe it was real, however crazy that was.

"And he didn't say anything else?" Sally had asked Rachel.

She shrugged. "His friend said something about it being time. Then they left."

"I hope he remembers to be careful," Sally said. She looked worried.

While all that was worrying, Paul was struggling to reconcile the fact that maybe the stories weren't just stories, after all.

"Oh, dear," Sally sighed. "I'm sure we can get that fixed, Paul. We'll come up with something to tell the mechanic," she said, looking at the damage.

Paul shook his head. "I think it can wait a few days."

…

For the next few days they heard nothing more about Percy. There was no word from his camp or his friends, which wasn't that unusual. But Sally still worried; it had got to the point where Paul had found her sitting blankly in from of her computer, the cursor blinking away where she had stopped mid-sentence in the early hours of the morning.

"There's something else going on, Paul," she told him one night. "I just have this awful feeling he's in the thick of something."

"Whatever it is, I think he can handle it, if his stories are anything to go by."

Later that night, when Percy had dropped into the living room with Nico and an enormous hellhound, Paul was ready to call himself a believer. He couldn't see the hellhound, but he could see and hear the damage her tail was doing to the living room. It was a surreal experience, watching the walls shake and a coating of dog hair film the floor and furniture.

After repeatedly checking the hood of his car to make sure he wasn't imagining the indents, Paul had been slowly coming to accept what had been there all along. The hellhound had really cinched it though.

It was an amazing moment, recognizing that the world was so much more than it appeared to be, but the realization couldn't have come at a worse time.

A heavy, anticipatory air pressed down upon the city. Most people seemed to chalk it up to the massive storm system that was sweeping across the nation, but now Paul knew better, and he was just as worried as Sally.

As soon as she had seen the blue lights, she had rushed him out the door. What followed was the most eventful time of Paul's life. From the strangely sudden nap in the car, to fighting invisible monsters in the midst of clashing armies in the middle of Manhattan, to watching battered demigods filter through the Empire State Building's lobby, Paul was left in a strange state of exhilaration.

They had only been able to see Percy for a moment in the lobby, but it had been enough. Though he was tired, Percy had been surprisingly unscathed, considering he had just been through a war.

It been enough to ease Sally's worry, and they had headed home. Sally and Paul had barely made it in the door; sudden fatigue had led them to flopping onto the couch as a cloud of hellhound hair floated around them.

"Did all that really just happen?"

"Yes, Paul."

A few minutes passed as Paul sat and absorbed everything.

"Does that mean Apollo really drives a chariot across the sky every day?"

Sally smiled. "I think Percy said it's some kind of sports car these days."

"Oh."

Paul watched the hellhound hair float in the sunlight, feeling more than a little dazed.

Sally gasped and sat up.

"Paul! Oh, how could I forget? It's Percy's sixteenth birthday today. I'm a terrible mother."

Paul smiled. He reached over and pulled her against him.

"Something tells me he'll forgive you. We can call him tomorrow, when we're all a little more recovered."

Paul had seen the extraordinary that day, and furthermore he accepted it. He would have more questions tomorrow, and belated birthday wishes to give to the boy he couldn't be more proud of. But for now, he would slump on the couch with his wonderful wife.

It had been an incredible day.

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Note: If I had water powers, I would definitely use them to do the dishes.

The next chapter should be up late October. In the meantime, review :)


	5. Chapter 5

Standard disclaimer here.

Sorry guys, I know I said late October, but real life has been rough. To make up for it, this is a little longer than usual.

Suggested listening for the second part is _Caught a Long Wind _by Feist. I listen to it on repeat whenever I write Sally.

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Chapter Five

It was all absolutely amazing, this whole new world that Paul had stepped into.

Everything he had known about the world had shifted. Strange and amazing, Paul had spent the first few weeks after the battle soaking in the fact that there was so much _more _out there.

He'd questioned Sally extensively since about the things she had seen: the monsters, the gods, and whatever else was out there. It was very different now, hearing these stories when he actually believed it all happened. Many of their conversations had gone something like this:

"So you've seen monsters all your life."

Sally looked a little amused. "Yes, Paul."

"But you've been having trouble seeing them for a while now?"

"I've had trouble seeing them clearly for the past few years."

"You could see them clearly during the battle though?"

Sally set down the pot she had grabbed out of the cabinet. She considered the question for a moment.

"You know, I do think that was the clearest I've seen them in years. It must have been the situation." Sally frowned. "I'd nearly forgotten how _awful _monsters can be up close."

"Did you see a lot up close?"

"Not really. I tried to keep my distance as much as possible. I always thought, if I got too close or if I stared, they might notice me. And when I was really young, I had no idea what I was seeing."

"That must have been hard," Paul said. "Especially when Percy was a kid. You couldn't exactly pretend you hadn't seen the same thing he did."

"Oh. No, Percy was still affected by the Mist then. When he did see one though, that was when I would switch schools."

"Huh. That explains the records. I was kind of wondering about the times he'd switched schools without any property damage being involved."

"Paul!" She threw a dishtowel at him. "None of that was really his fault."

"I know! I know," he smiled. "It's just impressive. _You _are impressive. Sally, you knew what kind of monsters he would be up against and you never faltered, not once. You're just as brave as any hero I've ever met."

She beamed at him. "And you would know, since you've met so many."

"Well lately…." Paul laughed.

Those first few months after the battle in Manhattan had been nothing short of wonderful. His family was safe and happy; a weight had been lifted from their shoulders that Paul hadn't even realized was there. And then everything had changed over Christmas break.

…

It was like what Edgar Allen Poe said: those first months after the battle for Paul had been "a dream within a dream," but it had been a fleeting one that had taken all of their happiness and much of their hope. He had never felt so helpless in all his life as he stood in the threshold and watched Sally and Annabeth weep together.

Paul had forgotten something crucial about Greek mythology, something that should have been immediately apparent once the truth had sunk in; few of those myths could be said to end happily. Ancient Greece had performed tragedies for decades before they began to recognize comedy as a form. How could Paul have forgotten that the link between myth and tragedy was so strong?

Months passed.

When pressed at work, Paul had told them that there was a family emergency on Percy's father's side of the family. Technically correct, it hardly touched the truth and certainly the feeling of someone ripping the floor away from under his feet. Paul would forget, sometimes, that Percy wasn't away at camp for a weekend; he would wander into Percy's room, expecting to either find Percy flopped on his bed or he and Annabeth sitting conspicuously apart with expectant looks on their faces, only to remember he was gone.

Sally had stopped writing. That worried him more than anything. He had found her, on more nights than he could count, staring blankly at her blinking curser. She had been so excited to start writing her novel; her enthusiasm had drawn him to her, and it was why he had approached her in class. Sitting beside her in that seminar had been one of the best decisions he had ever made. It was hard to watch her sit before her screen for hours at a time without writing a single word. There had been a lot for Sally to worry about the last few years, and yet she'd never stopped writing her novel before.

One night late in March was especially bad.

Paul didn't know what woke him up. It hardly mattered, after all. Sally was up, slumped back in her chair, a blank screen and blinking cursor glowing before her again. Paul rubbed his eyes and creakily rolled out of bed. Far too many nights she'd been like this; when he woke up, he would try to coax her to go to bed, but he was sure she hadn't slept the past two nights.

"Sally," he said.

There was no response. She was lost, deep in thought. Paul reached out and grasped her shoulder.

"Oh!" Sally jumped. "Sorry Paul, did I wake you up?"

"No. Have you gone to bed at all tonight?"

Sally shook her head. "I thought I would try writing something, but…" she trailed off. "I thought depression was supposed to be good for writing."

"Pretty sure that's a myth. Sleep generally helps."

"I've tried. But every time I do, all the worry I push aside during the day slams into me and all I can think about is that my little boy is on the other side of the country and he doesn't remember me. He doesn't even remember himself."

She was blinking back tears, and Paul could feel his eyes burning.

"Oh, Sally. Percy saved the world last summer. I think he could do just about anything. Considering the fact that I know he gave us the PG-13 versions of his quests, whatever he's up against he can handle it."

"He can't remember everything he's done right now."

"It's still there Sally. From what Annabeth said about that Jason kid, his memories will be there when he needs them, and that includes you."

"You're right," she said. "My little boy defeated a monster before he even knew he was a demigod, and he saved the world on his sixteenth birthday. He's going to remember me and he's going to forget to call just like he does every other quest."

"Not so worried now?"

"Maybe a little less worried."

"Enough to sleep?"

"For a few hours, at least."

Sally had her moments like this; the worry would overwhelm her, and Paul tried his best to keep her afloat. He hoped they would hear something about Percy soon.

…

It was late June, and school had been out for over a week. Sally, when she saw the date, had murmured _he's missed half a year._ Paul hadn't known what to say; he'd said so many things the last six months, the words had lost all their meanings. So instead, he refilled her cup of coffee.

Even though it was summer break, Paul was teaching summer school and in an hour he would head down to Goode to look over his lesson plans. For now he would finish his breakfast and act two of _Hamlet._ He'd read the play more times than he could count, but summer school started next week and it was the first thing the class was reading.

Sally was at the counter, sorting through all the junk mail from the day before when the blinking light of the phone caught her eye.

"Paul? Did you listen to the messages?"

"Hmm? No."

Sally pressed the button, and Paul only half listened to the automated messages from telemarketers and one for a dentist's appointment before Sally's gasp made him look up from the table. She had spilled her coffee all over the pizza ads and had a shaky hand over her mouth. He barely caught the word _quest _in the message before it registered that it was Percy speaking.

Paul dropped his toast.

He and Sally sat and listened to the message several times over the course of the next hour, with frequent pauses trying to deduce from the background noise what kind of place he was calling from, and Googling the area code from the phone number, and if he was _really _okay from the tone of his voice.

"He has his memory back!" Sally beamed.

Paul laughed. "He does!"

"He called!"

"He did."

They sat there and beamed at each other, happier than they had been in six months. It wasn't the same as actually talking to Percy or even seeing him, but a quick message on the answering machine had done wonders.

"Paul, he's going to be okay."

"Even on another quest."

Sally wiped the tears off her face.

"I may be worried about him, but Percy's off to save the world again."

"Yeah he is. Doesn't look like we'll be able to help much this time, though."

"Maybe not."

Paul pulled Sally close. He hadn't felt this content and hopeful in a long time.

"We're going to be okay," he said.

And Paul really believed that. His small family had certainly gone through a lot, and was still dealing with the sort of problems Paul had only ever seen in books. But as long as they kept each other afloat, they would make it.

* * *

And that's it.

As far as I'm concerned, this story is over. I just want to say thank you to all the people who put this on alert, who favorited it, and especially those who reviewed. You're all awesome.

I don't think this will be my last multi-chaptered fic. So for those of you who liked this enough to keep reading, keep an eye out.

Don't forget to review :)


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